Early morning in the Hoenn wilderness was peaceful.
Beautifly fluttered gently between wildflowers, collecting nectar.
Zigzagoon rummaged through fallen leaves in search of food.
Taillow flocks sliced across the pale sky in neat formations, their cries sharp and lively.
"Chii~!"
"Zig~zag!"
"Taillow-!"
For a moment, it truly resembled a Pokémon utopia.
But the forest was never truly gentle.
There was always a food chain.
And the rule of the wild was simple–
The strong live.
The weak die.
When Mightyena prowled through tall grass, when Dustox drifted in poisonous clouds, when Seviper slithered silently between roots-
The chase began.
Hunter and prey.
Wolf and sheep.
In this world, either the weak sheep were torn apart…
Or the weak wolf starved.
Silas rarely went out of his way to hunt.
His primary goal was travel.
Training was secondary.
But if wild Pokémon provoked him-
He showed no mercy.
They became stepping stones.
White bones along Sandile's path of growth.
.....
"Waa-goo!!"
Sandile lunged again.
A Poochyena that had attempted an ambush from the brush lay beneath its jaws.
With savage efficiency, Sandile tore through fur and flesh.
Blood stained the grass.
It swallowed in large, greedy bites.
Silas stood nearby, expression calm.
No emotion.
No praise.
No disgust.
Just observation.
In the future, Sandile might not become the strongest member of his team But it would undoubtedly be the most ruthless.
The most decisive.
The most willing to kill.
Silas's brow furrowed slightly as Sandile devoured the crude flesh.
Wild meat.
Mixed energy.
Poor quality.
Not suitable for long-term growth.
"Enough."
His voice was calm but firm.
"Sandile. Stop."
Sandile did not respond.
It continued tearing into the carcass with feverish intensity.
Whether it hadn't heard Or chose to ignore him.
Silas would not tolerate it.
None of his Pokémon had ever disobeyed like this.
Perhaps the survival trial had shaped something too extreme inside it.
"Murkrow. Wing Attack. Let's teach him a lesson."
"Ka—KRAA!"
A streak of black cut through the air.
Murkrow's wings struck sharply against Sandile's head.
Thud.
Sandile froze.
The bloodlust drained from its eyes almost instantly.
It lowered its head.
Slowly.
Then crawled toward Silas and pressed itself against his boot, tail wagging hesitantly.
"San…"
The aggressive predator was gone.
In its place- A young Pokémon seeking approval.
Silas's expression softened slightly.
"So it wasn't defiance…"
Just bloodlust.
As a trained breeder, the reason was obvious.
Since birth, Sandile had never experienced a proper, structured battle.
Only life-or-death combat.
Even against wild Pokémon, every strike had been lethal.
Kill or be killed.
This forged incredible combat instincts.
But it also carried consequences.
Unchecked aggression.
An excitement that clouded judgment.
As they continued traveling, Silas silently considered how to refine Sandile's temperament without dulling its edge.
...
Along the road, if he encountered Pokémon with strong potential and market value, he captured them.
But such Pokémon were always rare.
Truly high-aptitude wild Pokémon were extremely difficult to find.
Occasionally, he would discover rare medicinal herbs or natural treasures.
But such resources were almost always guarded
By powerful Pokémon.
Or entire territorial groups.
Murkrow would scout first.
If the strength difference was manageable, Silas would engage and use it as training.
If not-
He retreated without hesitation.
Even though Crawdaunt was nearing elite level (approaching Level 40), that did not mean he could dominate Hoenn's inland wilds.
This region was far from developed coastal cities.
Population was sparse.
Wild Pokémon were stronger here.
More territorial.
More dangerous.
Several times during the journey, Silas encountered Pokémon at elite tier or above.
One time, a forest overlord ruled an entire stretch of territory–
Surrounded by subordinates.
Even Silas chose to withdraw.
There was no benefit in reckless pride.
...
As dusk fell, he selected a flat clearing for camp.
Murkrow had already scouted the area multiple times.
No powerful threats nearby.
Umbreon assisted quietly.
"Umbre…"
Soon, the camp was set.
A fire crackled beneath the deepening sky.
Silas crouched beside it while Crawdaunt prepared the ingredients.
He sprinkled universal seasoning evenly over the meat.
The food was not Pokémon meat.
Unprocessed high-level Pokémon flesh contained concentrated energy.
If consumed by humans.
It could cause severe internal damage.
Silas was no professional chef capable of energy extraction.
So tonight's meal was simple-
Farm-raised rabbit.
Ordinary.
Safe.
As the meat roasted, golden oil dripped into the fire.
"Sizzle—"
A rich aroma spread into the forest.
Silas did not ask Murkrow to disperse the scent.
He allowed it to travel.
That was the intention.
Why search for opponents.
When you could draw them in?
Sandile needed battles.
Here, near the forest's outer edge, most wild Pokémon were under Level 30.
Perfect.
From the shadows beyond the firelight, eyes began to glow.
Red.
Green.
Yellow.
Watching.
Waiting.
Silas showed no concern.
Crawdaunt stood beside him, claws slightly raised.
"Craaa…"
Nothing would sneak past that guard.
Silas rose and stretched lightly.
Before he could make the first move-
Something stepped forward.
It resembled a round cactus.
Thick, muscular arms covered in sharp spines.
Three diamond-shaped markings on its chest.
A small yellow flower bloomed atop its head.
Silas recognized it instantly.
"Cacnea…"
His tone carried mild surprise.
Cacnea preferred arid regions.
Deserts.
Low rainfall zones.
They stored water within their bodies and could survive thirty days without drinking.
To find one here.
In forest terrain-
Was rare.
"Hmm…"
Silas narrowed his eyes slightly.
The faint fragrance drifting through the air wasn't from his roasted meat.
It came from the small yellow flower.
That bloom blossomed only once a year.
Cacnea used its scent to lure prey-
Then struck with its thorn-covered arms.
Silas had not encountered one even in the small desert of Windward Grasslands.
Which made this appearance all the more unusual.
Cacnea's eyes locked onto the campfire.
"Cac… nee…"
Sandile stepped forward.
Its black "sunglasses" gleamed faintly in the firelight.
The night grew tense.
Another battle was about to begin.
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(End of chapter)